Conversations 01

"Honey, I had to do it. The slimy little bastard had me over a barrel."

"Nope, he didn't. Not a barrel in sight on that video."

"Please don't be petty. Not now. If I didn't do it, he was going to block my promotion."

"So why didn't you come to me and tell me about it so we could fix it together?"

"If I'd come to you, what would you have said?"

"Change jobs or change marriages."

"Exactly. I knew you'd say that."

"And, that's the point I'm trying to make."

"What? I don't understand."

I sighed. There were a lot of things I didn't understand. How my wife could spend a whole afternoon fucking her boss, in every orifice and on every piece of furniture in the hotel room. How trust always seems to end up as weakness. How faith is just another word, or else the name of a nice girl that got bullied at school. How that fat cunt could fuck my wife for three hours solid without having a heart attack. The amount of Viagra he had to have taken, his ticker should have blown up and tocked it's last within minutes. It would only have been fair for that to happen. Evil fucking karma. Never strikes at the right time.

I tried to explain it to her.

"You knew exactly what I would say, and you did it anyway. I'm guessing you're now going to be all how I wasn't supposed to know, how it didn't mean anything, how it wouldn't affect us. But you knew! You knew everything. There were no secrets in your world, only in mine. You knew exactly how I would feel, and even then you couldn't balance the scale in my favour when you weighed it all up."

"I wasn't going to be all anything. But you knew how hard I'd worked for that promotion. And he was just going to throw all that work away. It would have been such a waste."

"What would have been wasted? The fact that you worked hard at your job? Isn't that what you're supposed to do anyway? That's why they pay you."

"They would pay me a whole lot more if I get that promotion."

"Oh well, not a complete waste then. At least I got the knowledge that my wife is a whore."

Despite the tear stains on her cheeks, she actually had the balls to look crossly at me for this. "Please don't let this become about name-calling! Be reasonable, please. Or at least polite."

"Hang on a sec, you voluntarily fucked and sucked and god knows what else with that slimy fat fuck for hours on end so he wouldn't block your promotion, which would have given you a pay raise. Which means you fucked him for a paycheque. That's the very definition of whore in any dictionary you care to name. In fact, your picture may be in some of them under that entry."

Her mouth opened and closed. I don't think she had ever suspected this side of me. The Lord of Fucking Smashmouth.

Of course, it helped that I had had a couple of hours to stew about it and think of a few choice phrases, while she was freshly into this conversation as soon as she let herself in the front door, with "all the shopping" she had been doing during the afternoon. Her secretary had obviously let her in on my phone call, establishing she wasn't available. When I had let on there was an emergency, she had then established that my dearly beloved wife was out of office for a meeting. Yeah, I already knew that was going to happen, I just wasn't sure when. Thanks secretary lady.

"And you think I shouldn't be a little unreasonable about it? Really? You think I maybe get a hard-on watching you swilling with the hogs, rolling around in the filth?"

She shook her head. This was not how she had foreseen the weekend starting. In her heart she had hoped for a little wine-soaked tete-a-tete with her husband at some fancy restaurant, celebrating her pending promotion. And time to set things right for her pending doom. Not walk into a no-holds-barred verbal brawl to the death the moment she stepped in through the door. Thank god it's Friday, huh?

"Please, let me think. I need to get my feet under me, to try and explain this to you so you can see it for what it was. It was just an afternoon out of our whole lives, so that we could have a better life for us and our children."

"What children?" I looked around the room and pretended to look surprised.

"Our future children, I mean."

"What future children?" I maintained my surprise.

"We planned to have children, three children. We even decided on names for them."

"Well, I guess now they'll be called Bastard One, Bastard Two and Bastard Who-Gives-A-Fuck. Because I'm guessing they'll be born out of wedlock if it happens any time soon. Besides, I call bullshit, bullshit and total bullshit on that idea. You whored yourself out for a promotion, even gave your John everything you had with all the enthusiasm a good whore can muster. And you'd give all that up to have children?"

"I would," she said, the tears still falling silently. I wasn't sure if they were from sorrow, anger or fear. Maybe a combination of all three. "I really would. For you."

"When?"

"Today!" she stated firmly.

"Fuck that! I'm not putting my cock anywhere near you anytime soon. Mr Slimy managed to paint a whole portrait on and in you. Now I don't know how many other whores he's been fucking with in the last couple of years, but I'm betting it's probably more than one. Get the picture?"

She looked confused, and then she looked horrified.

"No! I made him wear a condom."

"What, even when he painted your tonsils? Because it didn't look like it. You think your cunt is the only piece of you that can pick up a deadly disease? Are you that stupid?"

I clicked the remote."Besides, about that condom..."

She dragged her eyes around to the big screen television as if forced to watch her own death sentence only to see Mr Slimy ploughing her from behind, really furrowing up those fresh fields. He paused, gave a few false coughs to cover him pulling out and slipping the condom off, and then simply got straight back down on the farm. That bareback rider was so daring, he should have been in a circus doing tricks.

I ran the clip on until he gave a huge choking gasp, and pulled out, having filled her with his potentially deadly fluids. I stopped it there. Her face looked dreamy, his like he had just been punched in the gut, and nasty fluids dripped from where they really shouldn't.

She hadn't seen that much of the video until that point. She's had hysterics when she first saw it, with Slimy doing what Slimy's do, fucking someone else's wife - and being very religious and missionary about it. I'd succumbed to a moment of weakness at the look of horror on her face as she viewed her first starring role on television. I'd turned it off.

This part was so much worse. By then all the pretences of reluctance and 'just get on with it' had disappeared, and she was into the moment - really into it. We could both see it. Fuck, they could have seen it from the space station.

"That fucking bastard!" she screamed. "How could he do that to me? He promised!"

"Wow, a cheater cheats, an amazing turn up for the books."

She was still holding the bags from her pseudo shopping expedition, and she flung them at the walls.

"I'm going to kill that cunt!" she shrieked. Actually, I think she may have very well done that if he had been within reach at that moment. Her face was contorted, the tendons in her neck standing out and her hands quivering in lethal claws. She looked a bit like a velociraptor. I made sure I was out of arm's length before I continued to torture her.

Yes, yes. I'm a heartless bastard, torturing a beautiful woman for my own gratification. So what? Any hurts would be on the inside, the same place she had wounded me, cutting and cutting and cutting, over and over at my heart, in a never-ending torture of silent pain and doubt, remorse and pleading, rage and agony. You know what I mean. You've all been cheated on at some time or another. And if you haven't then congratulations, you never found out about it. People cheat. All people. Even you. Deal with it.

"You're going to kill the slime-ball that did that to you?"

I zoomed in on her face. Damn, you have to love these smart televisions. Or hate them for giving you the unwanted details. Her face was a mask of pure pleasure. The best drugs couldn't have done any better.

"I don't know what happened," she whispered. "He held my promotion over my head and..."

"Yes, yes," I said impatiently. "You keep saying that. We know. Enough already."

"I didn't want to do that. Not feel that. I promise on my life that I didn't. I just thought I could lie there and let him do it for a couple of minutes and it would be over."

"And then the slut took over."

She darted a look at me, and then nodded miserably.

"I suppose that's true. I didn't know I had it in me."

"I think we can all tell you knew exactly what was in you. And you loved it being there, as fast and hard as it would go."

A cheap shot, but mine own, so I was still proud of it.

"I don't know what to say. Ten minutes ago, I was so happy and so sad, coming home to a husband I loved and who loved me, to a happy home, to a good meal..."

"And a good shower!" I reminded her. When she looked askance, I put an expression of disgust on my face and twiddled my fingers at her. "To get rid of all the nasty dribbles on and in you."

She paled, closed her eyes and then opened them and held my gaze. "I showered immediately afterwards, long and hard. Very hard. And please don't make an innuendo about that."

I shut my mouth, forestalling my comment. Fair enough, that one would have been just too easy.

"I was happy and sad. I was so happy I was coming home to you and your love and that disgusting shit was all behind me. And so sad that I had betrayed you. I am so sorry I did that. More sorry than you will ever know. I betrayed myself as well. I never ever saw myself as that person."

She jerked her chin at the television.

"For some reason, that promotion took over the number one slot on my hit parade, and it played all the time in my head. Every single waking moment. I wanted to prove my worth - to you, to the company, to the world. And then an obstacle came along that I couldn't see an immediate way around. So I cheated, as if I had crib notes for an exam. And as soon as I did, I understood that I had actually proved that I wasn't worthy of any promotion, or anything else really. I couldn't hide it, couldn't keep it secret from you. So I was going to use it to take him down. The directors would have heart attacks if they had proof of how he was using his position over me."

She rose and fetched her laptop from the table inside the front door, opened it, clicked a few keys - and the same damn video played. I had secretly slaved her laptop to mine while she was asleep. So now we both had a copy.

"But I brought this home to show you what I'd done, and try and explain how sorry, how very sorry I was that I had strayed down that path. It was my own fault. I can't even blame him too much. I made it way too easy for him. But you had to know how disastrously stupid I'd been. Halfway home, I started throwing up and had to decide how to tell you. I put a message at the front and at the end for you. I guessed that you might throw me out as soon as you saw any of it, and thought it might be the only way you would hear my apology. But you'd already seen it"

"Then why all that shit when you saw what was playing on the TV."

She sighed. "I was going to tell you and show you the video later. You took me by surprise, and everything I was going to do and say just slipped right out of my brain. I panicked and dropped into protect and serve myself mode.

"I wanted us to have one final evening of loving one another. I got us a table at Mario's for eight, and even bought new clothes, so that you might be proud to be seen with me as he never had, even though I didn't deserve it. Then, later, I was going to make love to you. Not what he did to me, but real soul to soul loving. So that you could know later what was true in my heart despite what I had done. Tomorrow, I was going to ask you to watch the video while I packed a few things for when you threw me out."

I sat down, rubbed the heels of my palms over my eyes, trying to comprehend the mess of my life. "You may have made it too easy for him, but I didn't. His wife is probably watching that same video with him at this precise moment. As are your directors. Oh, and I wouldn't go see your folks this weekend either."

She pressed her eyes closed for a long moment then looked me in the eye again. I wished she wouldn't do that - not while the velociraptor thing was still in my mind.

"I deserve that I guess. Anyone else?"

I tried to dissemble. "A few friends..."

"A few?"

"Okay all of them. Everyone on your email list. I think your dentist might be a bit surprised. I only realised later that he'd get one too. Oh, and the people at the tax office, and the company that keeps trying to sell you Viagra. Maybe they'll stop now as they'll see you don't need..."

I wound down. Where was the righteous fury that had stormed through me for the past two days? Where was the rage of Zeus, the storm of Poseidon, the malice of Hades that had carried me here? All I felt now was this huge void. I didn't want to hurt anymore. I didn't even want to hurt her anymore. I just wanted my real life back. But it had died.

I think she knew that the fight had gone out of me. But she didn't take advantage of it.

She laid her hand on my shoulder for a moment, and then walked into the kitchen. I was still slumped over in the armchair when she returned with a cup of tea. She gave it to me and knelt next to the chair. When she put her forehead against my arm and rested her arm across my shoulders, I knew I should fling her to the floor like the cheating, lying, scum-sucking slut that she was and demand she never ever touch me again in this lifetime and the next. But honestly, I didn't have it in me. And the comfort, even from her, was ... comforting.

I let my eyes close and just tried to forget all about everything for a few moments. All I wanted was this quiet moment of rest to continue forever.

"So what do we do now?" I pondered the question, and then realised that I had asked it.

"I don't know," she said, her eyes bleary with fresh tears. "Out of all this, your pain is what I regret most, and I will carry the knowledge of that hurt with me for the rest of my life, and acknowledge that I did that to you. Oh, don't get me wrong. I regret with every atom of my being what I did, regret folding to his demand, regret not finding another job, regret going to work for the company in the first place, even moving to this town. I regret so much.

"But what I don't regret is every instant I spent with you. I don't regret a single moment of your sardonic wit, even when it was at my expense. You made me laugh so much and be so happy with our life together, even when we argued. I don't even regret a single tear I shed with you before today. There is not a moment of time we spent together that I regret. Except perhaps not climbing into bed with you on our first three dates. That was more time we could have spent linking our souls together.

"None of what I have done is on you. You didn't do anything bad, or make a silly mistake that I wouldn't forgive you. You loved me and supported me - always. You don't run me down or belittle me like some of our friends do with their spouses. You look after me when I'm sick or just in need of a little petting to cheer me up. You give me joy, make me laugh, make me think, make me sing, challenge me mentally. And you are by far the best I have ever had between the sheets, although compared to all the rest of what you do for me, that isn't as important as you might think. You give me happiness and pleasure and make me look forward to coming home to you each day. And, if I hadn't fucked up so badly, you would have been the best father our children could ever have wished for."

It was a long speech, and as always, she put things so much more eloquently than I could. Even though she was sobbing heart-brokenly by the end of it. I knew everything she said was true. It was how I felt about her. I just wish I'd been able to say it more often than two or three times a day.

For a while I didn't know what to do. I knew what I should do, but didn't want to do it. Her acknowledgement of guilt and causing the whole sorry mess had quite taken the wind out of me. I had planned a whole battle campaign, with attacks and retreats, feints and ruses. All to no avail. She surrendered before the war began.

So I drew her head onto my lap and just stroked her hair. Two broken souls.

A year later, I awoke and turned over in our bed to face her. She was awake and blinking at me. I made the decision.

"I'm sorry, I can't do this anymore."

Her eyes grew wide with sorrow. "It's okay, I understand. I have bags packed in the wardrobe. I'll leave by this aftern..."

"What?" I almost shouted. "That's not what I'm saying! Well. Actually it is, but not about leaving. I don't want us to live like this anymore. You have to stop saying sorry to me every time we disagree. I want my wife back, not this shadow. You have got to go back to the woman I married or we definitely are not going to get through this.

"I know I get angry sometimes, when something brings it all back, but you cannot treat me like an IED. Now and again I may explode, but I am definitely not lethal. No more pussyfooting around. Alright?"

Her eyes were big as she nodded.

"And another thing. When you get the itch, you don't have to seduce me every time like I'm a virgin. I like it when you do, but I also like it when you just make demands like you used to. It took us six months to get the all clear on the AIDS test and have sex again, but since then it's been like living with a ghost, although the sex has been very nice, thank you very nice. But when you are so tentative with me it's like there's a third ghost in here with us as well."

She knew well what I meant.

"Get out and find a job. Sitting around here all day is driving you crazy, we both know that. Find something you like and go and do it. If another cunt tries to make you do something you don't want to do, tell me and I swear I'll beat him within an inch of his life and then drown the bastard in a sack full of snakes. They can swim. And if you do want to do something off-piste, then that sends me a message loud and clear, yeah?"

"I won't ever..."

"I'm happy to hear that, and that you know what it means when I promise no more do-overs. But not every guy out there is going to want to ... wait, yeah they are. Of course they are. New plan! Dig a cellar and I'll lock you in it. I shall call you Igor and we shall take over the world. Ha ha ha!"

"You're a fucking loony sometimes, I swear you are," she laughed loud and clear. It made my heart happy to hear it.

"Please baby! Be you again. I need that more than anything. I don't want you to live in a world of misery. If I'd wanted that I would have... well, I don't know, but I never wanted that. Not after a few hours, anyway. The thing is, I can't put it behind me while you keep it in front of you. If you want to connect souls, then you have to put some work into it. Can you do that?"

"I will."

"Then unpack those fucking bags!"